Because You're My Brother
by NerdAngel
Summary: Short story takes place after "The Purge" 9X13. Sam and Dean find a case that puts them on the trail of a Wendigo. Sam gets himself in danger, causing Dean to follow suit.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: This is going to be a short story, only a few chapters long. Rated T for language and later violence.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: season 9, and some mentions of season 4 (in this chapter).**

 **Thank you to everyone who follows me. Also to those who read, review, favorite, and/ follow this story and any of my other ones.**

 **A special thank you toLilyBolt for your constant support and friendship. As well as to miXiZ for everything you have done with/for me.**

 **This story was actually an idea pitched to me by miXiZ. She gave me the skeleton, I supplied the meat. This story is dedicated to you miXiZ! I hope you enjoy it! :-)**

 **I do not own the boys or Supernatural.**

Chapter 1

Dean watched from his spot at the Men of Letters study room table as his younger brother shuffled into view. His grey long sleeve V-neck was askew slightly and wrinkled, his neck length shaggy brown hair looked suitable for a bird to nest in, and his hazel eyes were barely open and still full of sleep. Dean followed his brother with his eyes as he made like a zombie towards the kitchen. Normally he found how Sam looked when he first woke up to be humorous, even go so far as to tease him about it. But he hadn't laughed or even smiled since Sam returned to the bunker angel free. He shook his head, picked up his glass of whiskey and took a drink. He had just made coffee only minutes before Sashquach made his appearance, so he knew it was still hot. He also knew that no matter how tired the youngest brother was, he always thanked Dean after he helped himself to a sip. Sam re-emerged, a white coffee cup now in his right hand as he shuffled back into Dean's line of sight.

"Hey," Dean called out. He didn't bother with the good mornings, he knew it was pointless as of late. Sam mumbled a reply into his coffee cup and continued walking. No thank you or real acknowledgement, yep, Sam was still pissed at him. "Caught a case," Dean said trying to hide the hurt in his voice at the lack of interest his brother had in him.

Sam sighed and scrubbed his face with his free hand making his way over as though he were a teenager being asked to help unload groceries from the car.

"Where?" He asked squinting over Dean's shoulder, but still at a bit of a distance from him.

"Walden Colorado. The State Forest State Park," he reported. "Don't know why they need so many States in the name but, whatever," he mumbled.

"What's it say?" Sam talked into his cup again, ignoring Dean's comment.

"People been reported missing."

"That's it?" The younger brother asked unimpressed.

"What, people disappearing not enough for you?" Dean snapped.

"It's the forest. It was probably a coyote or a bear or something," Sam gave a half hearted shrug.

"I'm thinking less animal more monster," Dean said turning to look at his brother.

"So...You're thinking Wendigo," Sam's eyes still scanned the computer screen. It hadn't been a question.

"In the flesh," was the oldest Winchester's response.

"But they're in Minnesota or north of Michigan. Why would they be in Colorado?"

"Beats me," Dean shrugged "Times have changed."

"And why do you think it's a Wendigo?" Sam asked still not making eye contact.

"No reports of finding any bodies, clothes, body parts, or bones."

"And they stash their prey away in some secluded lair," Sam said catching on. "Alright, give me an hour." Without another word and still no thank you for the coffee, Sam disappeared back down the hall towards his room. Dean watched him leave. Once he was gone he stared at the direction his brother had been. He was suddenly reminded of the night after they had taken out a parasite known as a pishtaco, he had tried to make Sam understand his reasonings for allowing an angel inside of him in order to save his life. Sam only threw it back in his face, saying he just didn't want to be alone, he saved Sam for himself. Dean had tried another approach.

"If the situation were reversed and I was dying, you'd do the same thing." Dean's eyes hadn't left Sam's as he spoke, trying to drive home how serious this was.

"No, Dean, I wouldn't." Sam had responded his gaze anywhere but on his brother. "Same circumstances, I wouldn't." With that Sam had shrugged and rolled his eyes up to meet Dean's.

In that moment and even now a week later, Dean had wished more than ever that Bobby Singer was still alive. Well he always did, but he was fresh in his thoughts. He could remember when Sam had gone off the deep end with demon blood and ran off with the demon Ruby and how Dean had come to a point where he was done. He hadn't wanted to deal with Sam, there hadn't been any reason to. His little brother clearly hadn't cared what he thought, he was going to do whatever it was he was going to do. Ruby 's opinion had mattered more than his. In the moment, Dean had seen red. Sam didn't want his help, fine, fuck him. But Bobby hadn't allowed Dean to throw in the towel. He reminded Dean that family was a pain in the ass, but they were still family. Bobby 's words had connected with Dean and he realized he could never abandon Sam, no matter how angry or hurt he had been. They were still family. If Bobby was still around he certainly would have given Sam the same talk. But Bobby wasn't around and Sam didn't see it like that, not anymore. Dean wasn't his brother, in his eyes, he was merely a partner.

He jolted slightly as he snapped back to the present. The older brother downed the rest of his whiskey and then got up from the computer to go pack himself.

About an hour and twenty minutes later, the boys had packed up the Impala, checked their supplies, and were on the road. Colorado was a good ten hours at least from Kansas, maybe eight or nine with how Dean was known to drive. The plan was to drive all the way through with only bathroom breaks and the occasional stop to stretch out their legs. The Impala wasn't exactly comfortable for Sam to sit in for endless hours, not with those Daddy Long Leg-esque legs of his. But the stops had already been considerably fewer and they had already put a good four hours plus behind them.

Normally the brothers would pass their time chatting about the case or bantering about some unimportant topic, but this ride up until this point, had been filled only with tense awkward silence. Dean sat behind the wheel staring out the front window, his attention fixed on the road ahead of him. Sam sat shotgun with a road map all sprawled out on his lap. His head was bowed and his eyes followed his finger as he traced the freeway they were on and then the streets they were suppose to go down once they were in town. His concentration was interrupted by the sound of AC/DC blasting out of the car stereo. Sam jumped slightly then threw Dean an exasperated look as he jabbed his index finger at the off button.

The older Winchester shot an equally as vexed glance and turned the music back on. Sam huffed shooting Dean one of his infamous bitchfaces.

"Do you mind Dean? I'm trying to map out our route to the park," Sam said raising his voice so that he could be heard over the band.

"I'm bored. Besides, it's not like we haven't done this stretch a few times, we don't need the map until we roll closer to town. We still have almost six hours to go," Dean responded matching Sam's voice level. The younger brother reached over and turned off the stereo again.

"Maybe you don't care, but I at least like to know where I'm going," Sam countered.

"Then have at it, but the music stays on. Why don't you just tune it out? You don't seem to have a problem doing it to me," Dean retorted not bothering to hide the ice in his voice.

"Cute," Sam shot back. His brother responded with a quick mock grin in his direction then he reached over, turned the music back on and this time he turned up the volume and began to sing along loudly. Sam rolled his eyes and threw his head back on the headrest with a heavy sigh. Dean didn't even have to look at his brother to know that he was weighing the pros and the cons of throwing open the passenger side door and tucking and rolling out of the Impala of which was going easily 85 miles per hour. The cons must have won. He bunched up the map, crammed it back into the glove department and then turned to face the passenger side window with his arms crossed and his jaw clenched tight. It was going to be a long ride to Colorado.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n: Wow guys thank you so much for following "Because You're My Brother." I'm very aappreciative to all of you :-) I had been hoping to get this out sooner, but it got deleted and I had to start over.**

 **I would like to give a special thank you to LilyBolt for your constant ssupport and friendship as well as miXiZ for support, friendship, help, and idea to begin with. I would also like to thank you to Guest, DearHart, and anyone else who takes time to review.**

Ch 2

By the time the Impala rolled into Walden, stars freckled the sky and Dean decided that it was too late to talk to anyone and it certainly wasn't a smart idea to trump through unsafe woods at this hour. He pulled the Chevy into the parking lot of a hole in the wall motel a couple miles from the State park. Sam sprung from the passenger side and made his way into the lobby, slamming the car door behind him. Dean glared after his brother, running an apologetic hand on his Baby, then followed. The lobby was simple. Off white walls, grey carpet, a little rack with brochures off to the right, and a counter in the center. There wasn't much space behind the counter, in fact it was more like a stall then anything else. On the walls there were pictures of various wildlife hanging in wooden frames throughout the small room.

A man who was easily in his mid 50s gave the boys a warm smile as they entered. He pushed his coke bottle glasses back on the bridge of nose with a shaky bony finger.

"Well hello gentleman, what can I do you for?" He asked.

"Three nights two rooms please," Sam responded with a polite grin. Behind him Dean gave a small nod and looked down at the floor. The brothers had always shared a room since as long as they could remember. It just always made sense, two brothers two beds. There had never been a need to not share.

"You want conjoined rooms?" The man asked looking from one Winchester to the other.

"That's not necessary," Sam answered.

"Well, looks like I don't have any left. Here's your keys, room #104 and #113," the man handed one to Sam, the other to Dean. Sam handed him one of his fake credit cards and paid for the rooms. The man behind the counter went on to inform the brothers of the continental breakfast they offered and the times it was available to and from. The Winchesters thanked him and headed back to the car to collect their belongings. They both checked for any nearby witnesses and when there was no one, Dean opened up the trunk. Sam snatched up his computer bag and backpack slinging them both over his shoulder while Dean retrieved his own bag, closed the trunk,and secured the Impala.

"So," he spoke up. It had been the first time either brother had addressed the other since the argument in the car "I was thinking we find the nearest bar and get some grub and some brews." His eyes searched Sam's, looking for a response.

"It's been a long drive, I'm just going to call it a night." Without another word, Sam stalked off towards the motel. Dean watched him until he turned up the stairs and out of sight. Sam had been right about one thing, it had been a long drive and brother or no brother, he was going to get a drink.

Dean adjusted his bag onto his shoulder and walked off to find his room.

The room was basic. There were two wooden queen size beds with what Dean imagined were less than comfortable mattresses, definitely not the memory foam ones they had back at the bunker. A wooden nightstand stood between the beds with a simple wall lamp above it, a wooden dresser was up against the wall the beds, a small flat screen tv resting on top of it, and black mini fridge was next to it. To his right was a little wooden table with two wooden chairs. Dean couldn't help but think that that was where Sam would have set up shop with his laptop and more than likely, that was what he was really doing. The thin layer of fabric the place called a carpet was a dark taupe color with various stains Dean chose to not think about. The walls were painted a metallic forest green and yet more pictures of wildlife in yet more wooden frames hung on the walls. The bathroom couldn't have been any smaller, it consisted of a toilet, sink with a mirror above it, shower/tub, and metal rack which hung above the toilet with clean folded white towels and washcloths. A tiny bottle of shampoo accompanied by conditioner and two little packages of soap sat on the sink. Dean tossed his bag onto the bed that would have been Sam's, then set out to find the nearest bar.

He had only been driving for ten minutes before he came across one. Dean pulled into the closest open spot and made his way in. The place was packed, and small. Sound carried as if he was sitting in a tube, laughter bounced off the wall reverberating in Dean's skull. The inaudible chatter of multiple conversations was enough to make his head spin. However, the call of alcohol had been stronger than any voice in the establishment and he found himself a spot at the bar counter. He slid onto the empty backless leather barstool and examined the numerous bottles of assorted alcohol in front of him. The bartender, a woman only a few years older than Dean, noticed him and roamed over.

"Haven't seen your face around here before," she said with a warm smile. Dean laughed.

"I'll take it you know some of these people," Dean gathered taking a quick glance at the massive amount of customers.

"See these folks every Friday night," she responded with a sharp nod.

"And you remember all their faces?" Dean asked not sure where to be impressed or creeped out.

"Well, I wouldn't forget a pretty face," she said. Her cheeks turned a slight shade of pink and Dean bit his lower lip as he nodded. It wasn't the first time he had been told that. "Name's Mary," she introduced flipping her short dark hair out of her eyes.

"Dean."

"So Dean, what can I get you?"

"You're strongest whiskey," he said. Mary had noticed the hint of excitement in his voice as he put in his order, it had reminded her of her youngest son when he would order ice cream. She gave him a curious sad look then turned to fix his drink. She returned with a glass and the bottle.

"So Dean, where you from?" She asked as she poured his whiskey.

"Kansas," he said simply watching the alcohol fall into the glass.

"A Kansas boy huh?"

"Yes ma'am," he smiled causing her to quickly pretend she was checking for any customers who needed her attention as her heart fluttered.

"Well, what brings you to our little town in Colorado?" She asked crossing her arms and leaning on the counter. Dean picked up his glass and stared at it as though it had the answer inside.

"Road trip."

"Alone?"

"No, well, not really. I'm road tripping with my brother," Dean tossed back his drink, warmth slid down his throat, burning as it went. He slammed down the empty glass with a satisfied sound. "You mind pouring me another?" Mary picked up the bottle and poured.

"Where's he?" She asked setting the bottle down and searching the crowd for another unfamiliar face, probably also a looker.

"Sleeping apparently," Dean said coldly. He downed his second glass and tapped it at the bartender. Mary gave Dean a concerned glance, but obliged. Something told her that this brother may be the source of this man's late night drinking session.

"So what are you here to see exactly? You on a bar crawl?" Dean laughed causing Mary once again have to avert her eyes.

"No nothing like that. We're actually going to hit up the State Park tomorrow." A shadow fell over Mary's face.

"You just be careful out there," she said, pouring Dean another glass of whiskey noticing it had been empty. She made a mental note to not pour the man anymore for night. Water only.

"What doya mean?" He tilted his head with a puzzled look on his face. She leaned in closer so he could really hear her over all the absent yammering.

"People have been disappearing round there. No bodies no blood, just missing," she informed. Dean nodded and gave her a reassuring smile.

"Thanks for your concern."

"It doesn't stop there," she said louder now as she unravelled her arms and pushed herself off of the counter. "I'm cutting you off for the night. Water or nothing," the shadow had passed and she gave him a playful grin. Dean laughed and turned his head away. He was still good to drive back, at least he was by his standards, but he didn't argue.

"Fair enough." She had a feeling he would have polished off that entire bottle alone if she would have let him. He moved to pull his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans, but Mary placed a hand on his arm. His green eyes met her eyes and her face turned red.

"I gotcha covered handsome," she said. Dean tilted his head in appreciation, pulled out a ten, placed it on the counter by his empty glass and slid off the barstool. Mary watched him as he swayed slightly out the door.

XXX

Sam hadn't completely lied, he was tired and it had been a long drive, but he wasn't quite ready for bed. He pulled out his laptop and fired it up. He quickly got to work checking out local news varying from articles to "reward if found" blogs. The victims were different races, genders and ages. Nothing in common but having last been seen at the State Park. If Sam was being honest, he was still not sold on this being their kind of case. Ok sure people were going missing and someone had to figure it out, but he didn't think it was a job for them. The likeliness that Dean had seen "numerous missing people," and immediately saw it as a case, was much higher then it actually being one. All kinds of things happened to people in the wild: animal attacks, hidden ditches, faulty ground, other people, falling trees...the possibilities were just about endless. Especially when you didn't have clue one about nature. Sam searched the web for what had to have been hours before he pushed back from the screen with a frustrated sigh, rubbing his face vigorously. Nothing told or hinted at him that anything supernatural was at play here. He raked his long fingers through his hair and huffed. Sam shut down his computer and unzipped his backpack. He pulled out his night attire and continued to dig until he found the homemade blow torch he had slipped into his bag earlier. Digging a bit deeper, he found the spare lighter he had packed. He gave a pleased nod then placed it all back in his backpack and zipped it up. Once he had striped himself of his day clothes, threw on his sweatpants and T shirt, and brushed his teeth, Sam crawled into bed and turned off the light next to his bed submerging the room into darkness. He laid on his back staring up into the dark until sleep finally took him.

XXX

Dean woke up the next morning to find himself half off the bed and his day clothes still on. He groaned as he pushed himself up into sitting position. He sat like that for a few minutes, allowing the light headed feeling to decrease. He reached over to check his phone and found there were no messages and no voicemails. No real shock there. He scrubbed his face and dragged himself off to the bathroom to get his day started. By the time Dean was showered, teeth were brushed, new cleanish clothes were on and he was ready to go, it was a quarter to ten. Sam still hadn't called so Dean scrolled down on his phone until his brother's name was highlighted and pressed enter. The line rang a few times before his voicemail picked up.

"Hey, it's me. I'm gonna hit the road so, y'know, if you're tagging along, chop chop." Dean pressed end and pocketed it. He grabbed the keys to the Impala and the room card and then headed off. He contemplated trying Sam again and again and again until his stubborn little brother was so annoyed that he would answer, but he decided against it. Instead of harassing him via phone, he decided to make personal appearance. He stopped short when he came to room #104 and knocked loudly. "Sam!" He called out resting his head on the door. He was by no means drunk, but he did have a nagging headache that was throbbing in the back of his head. When Sam didn't answer he knocked louder "Sam!" He waited for a few seconds then pounded one last time, maybe he was in the shower. When Sam still didn't answer, Dean slammed a frustrated fist on the door then marched off to the Impala. He checked for people, then opened her up, grabbed his lock picking kit, closed the trunk, and stomped back up to Sam's room. If his brother was sitting at his laptop ignoring his calls and knocks, he was going to lose the last of his patience. Dean took a quick pan of the area and once the he was clear, he picked his way into the room. It looked identical to his. His eyes scanned the area, had he not noticed the laptop bag on one of the chairs, he would have thought he had the wrong room. "Sammy?" Dean called out again, his eyes darted from one side of the room to the next. He walked over to inspect the bathroom. Only Sam's toiletries were there and a towel thrown over the edge of the tub. Dean's heart began to pound. It was too late for the continental breakfast and the Impala had still been in the lot. There where no signs of a forced entry or a struggle. Sam was just gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n: Wow I'm just super shocked still by how many of you are following this story. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to post, but here it is! Thank you all so much!**

 **Warning there is some bad language in this chapter.**

 **Thank you so much to anyone who reads, follows, reviews, and/or favorites. Thank you to Guest and DearHart for your reviews as well as miXiZ and LilyBolt for their reviews and constant support and friendship.**

Ch 3

"Sam answer the damn phone," Dean didn't bother to hide the anger in his voice as he left yet another message for his brother. "I swear, if you took off after this thing alone..." he paused. "Call me." The older brother ended the call and crammed his phone in his pocket as he approached the Impala. Time was important when it came to hunting a Wendigo, and Dean had already wasted more than he had wanted to. He quickly climbed into the car, revved her to life, and tore out of the motel.

The older Winchester arrived at the State Park about twenty minutes later. It looked like a lot of ground to cover and around eight hours or so of daylight to do it. The Wendigo was a good hunter during the day, but a damn perfect one at night and Dean wasn't interested in having to deal with it when it was at it's best.

He swung the Impala into a parking spot and went to pull the supplies he was going to need to take the monster down. He rooted through the trunk, trying to be as inconspicuous with all the weapons as he tossed them around, his eyes scanning every item as he did. When Dean still didn't find it, he checked again a bit faster this time round. He knew he had the homemade blow torch in here before they left, he had made sure of it. Fire was the only thing that could take the beast down. He went through it one last time, just to be thorough. When he came up empty, he snatched up a flashlight and his handgun, then slammed the trunk closed and marched off towards the park, stuffing his gun into the waistband of his jeans. Gunshots may be useless against the thing, but at least it was something and he didn't feel completely defenseless.

After Dean paid to enter the park's forest and purchased a ridiculously expensive bottle of water, he started off at a power walk down the main trail. Wendigos were smart, they would set up camp far from where people were and it would be someplace hidden, and of course, somewhere dark. As he made his way down the path, he kept a hawk eye out for any sign of his brother. Sam wasn't exactly hard to spot, a 6'4 well built man with hair that fell to just an inch or two from his shoulders wasn't what Dean believed to be common. An hour in, he had already passed up multiple couples, a good sum of groups, countless single walkers, and a few families. If only those parents knew what loitered in these woods. If only any of them did.

The park was beautiful, but Dean was not Sam. All forests looked the same to him for the most part. A tree was a tree, plants were plants, rocks and creeks were rocks and creeks, and grass and dirt were just that, grass and dirt. Sam however would say otherwise. The soil was unique, the air felt and smelt different, the foliage was native, and even the creeks and rocks had their own origin story if you asked the younger Winchester. Sam enjoyed nature, starting at a young age he would take time to appreciate it or sneak in things like unique rocks and leaves into the motels. As he grew older and was introduced into hunting, Sam preferred to find more natural remedies in dealing with the supernatural. He took more to the herbs and spices then the actual man made weapons such as guns and knives. Dean on the other hand didn't have time to waste standing around hugging trees and if he could solve a problem using some kind of weapon, he was content. Temporary solutions were nice in a pinch, but permanent ones were much more preferred. To the older brother, nature was a place numerous monsters called home. A war zone. While a younger Sam had been picking up rocks and smelling flowers, Dean had been standing right beside him, all senses on high alert like a mother deer. Things hadn't changed much in that way. However, despite Dean's dislike for being in nature, there was one activity he did enjoy. When Sam was in grade school, he learned about stars and instantly fell in love and awe of them. The way something so small could shine so bright and help to light up the sky filled him with delight. In fact, the whole solar system did, but he was especially keen on stars. After a considerable amount of begging, yanking on his big brother's arm,and putting his puppy dog eyes into effect, Sam had convinced Dean to go out and look at the stars with him. The at the time eleven year old had sighed, rolled his eyes, and huffed a "fine" allowing his ecstatic little brother to drag him out of Bobby' s house and into the backyard. Dean had sat with his arms crossed as Sam had pointed at the different constellations, excitedly rattling off what they were and their origins. Upon watching Sam's eyes lit up with each one he mentioned and the smile that never fell from his face, he had unraveled his limbs and found a smile tugging at his own lips. It became a slightly regular thing for the brothers. Dean would sit and bounce between looking up at the sky and looking over at an always eager Sam who still seemed to come up with new information about them. He would pretend to be interested just so that he could witness his little brother's smile and passionate voice. What did he care what the stars' names were? But if it mattered to Sammy, then it mattered to him.

Dean shook his head as if to clear it. As much as he longed for those moments, he had more pressing things to think about.

He pulled his cell out of his pocket. No service.

"Awesome," Dean mumbled under his breath and returned it to his jacket. Just another reason he hated nature, shitty reception. He cast his gaze from left to right and on the occasional person he passed, wiping away sweat that had started to roll from his hairline down his face as he went. Dean had finished up the rest of his water some feet back, cussing at himself for not having purchased at least two and judging by the grumble in his stomach, maybe a snack bar or something would have been good as well. Frustration started to edge into Dean. He didn't even know where to look. All he knew was that he wasn't going to find it walking on the main path. Once there were no witnesses, Dean took off to the right, stomping through the foliage. He continued on straight for awhile then turned left and stayed straight again. The older Winchester looked up at the sun occasionally, using it as a means to decipher the time. Every once in awhile he would pull out his phone to see if he had a signal or to get a more accurate time. Now that he was more or less alone, the sounds of the different birds and insects that buzzed merrily by his ear seemed heightened. Even the sound of his own footfall as twigs and dirt crunched under his boot. Dean began to pant and his pace slowed down more and more with every step until he came to a full stop. He wiped his hand across his face again, breath heavy, and his eyes drooping. He sighed and allowed his body to fall against a nearby tree closing his eyes and licking his lips, trying to get his breathing back to a steady rhythm. The sound of a bird letting out a shrill sound caused Dean to open his eyes. He looked over to right and tilted his head. Pushing himself slowly off the tree he had been leaning on, he walked over to another one, his gaze falling on a spot that was only a few inches above his eye level. The bark of the tree had been scratched out creating a smooth canvas and a shallow X was etched on the surface. It was definitely man made, no animal he knew would scratch off the bark like that. He ran his fingers over it, feeling the grooves and dents, tracing the shape. It had been created with a knife, more than likely, a simple butterfly knife. Dean's heart began to race as he remembered when their father had sent him and Sam on a survival trip in the woods.

He had been spinning circles cussing and kicking at anything his foot could reach.

"I fucking HATE this place!" A teenage Dean shouted, aiming his foot at a bunch of rocks.

"Stop acting like a two year old and just relax. We'll find our way back," Sam had said in a stern voice, his gaze had been on his older brother.

"I can't believe this shit!" The older teen had hollered. "He knows how much I hate nature."

"Yeah well," Sam had huffed and pulled out his pocket knife "that's part of the job," he had responded flatly. Sam had ran the blade over the bark of the nearest tree, making himself a smooth spot and then dug the blade into the trunk and slid the knife down. He repeated the same movement in the same direction a few times before mimicking the motion so that it created an X.

"What are you doing?" Dean had asked looking over his brother's shoulder at his work.

"Marking. That way we know where we've been," Sam had answered moving on to another tree and replicating the last.

"Dude that's going to take forever," Dean had complained following his little brother.

"Maybe," Sam had said finishing up his second tree and had turned to face Dean "but it sure as Hell beats running around in circles."

A grin spread across Dean's face. "Thank God Sammy's a walking brain," he said out loud. There was still the possibility of course that this wasn't Sam's handy work, but Dean had a strong feeling these marks were in his favor. His breath had returned to normal and new strength filled the older brother as he allowed his eyes and the scratched up trees to be his guide.

 **A/n: I hope this chapter was alright, I spent a good few days writing and rewriting this. I know it was a bit slow, but I promise you, things are about to speed up and get a bit intense.**

 **Thank you for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/n: Wow! You guys continue to really amaze me! I'm so glad you are all enjoying this story so much. That being said, I would like to thank EVERYONE so very much for reading, reviewing, following and/ or favoriting!**

 **A special thank you to miXiZ for ALL of your help,support, and friendship. As well as to LilyBolt for your support and friendship, as well as your always helpful and uplifting reviews. You guys are the best!**

 **Feedback is always appreciated.**

Ch4

Dean followed the marks for what felt like hours. He had already stopped checking the sun's position and his phone some time back. Although he hadn't needed to, he could already feel the air had cooled off a bit and it was apparent that the sun was already beginning to sink. Luckily, there was still enough light that he could see the trees. In all honesty, Dean didn't even know for a fact as to where this trail had started. He was hoping that the direction he was currently going in was the correct one and that it wasn't going to end up dumping him right back to the entrance. Or what if Sam had gone the wrong way and he was going to be forced to make a decision on which tree was the right one? With every trunk he saw marked, his thoughts raced. Finding and killing this thing was completely mandatory, but finding Sam took absolute priority. Sam. For the genius that his little brother was, he could be a downright moron when he let his emotions get the better of his judgment. Part of him was actually hoping this had been someone else's work, if for no other reason then to reassure himself that Sammy was alright. Yet that hope's light was fading with every step he took. When Sam had grown from a snot nose little kid to an emotions gone wild know it all teenager, he had started to find Dean's constant watch more of a nuisance than a blessing. It became a weakness of Sam's to prove that he was right about damn near everything, especially when it came to taking care of himself. This little disappearing act he had pulled, was just another way for "little Sammy" to show he knows best. Like so many times when he got it in that obstinate mind of his, it had probably led him to trouble. If Dean found Sam laying dead in some cave somewhere, he was going to lose it. If he found him standing over the Wendigo with the blow torch in his hand, he was going to kill him. Either way didn't bode well for the younger Winchester but Dean was aspiring for door number two. Something new occupied his brain. The sound of birds and insects had become scarcer and scarcer until they had stopped altogether. That sign albeit bad, was actually music to Dean's ears. Silence was a sign that a Wendigo was close by.

Dean started on a steady decline when he heard a call for help. He stopped and stood completely still, not even daring to breath. Another sound of distress and this time he was sure that he recognized it as his brother's. His first instinct was to race off towards the voice, but before he could, his brain took over the decision making. Not a smart move. Wendigos were known for being able to mimic the sound of a human call in order to draw in its prey. An uneasy feeling crept into Dean and he suddenly wished he had the torch or at least a few more pairs of eyes. Two hadn't been enough for him to survey his surroundings. If it was calling out to him, it had to have seen him. And if it had imitated Sam's voice to send out the tormented cry, then it had Sam. Dean's heart sped up as he continued to stay still, save his eyes which were rapidly darting every which way. Wendigos were a creature that based their hunting skills on a few things. One of them being motion. As long as Dean continued to do his best impersonation of a statue, he should be alright. However, that wouldn't save his brother and the longer he waited, the closer the dark consumed the sky and the more powerful and close to impossible the thing would be to kill. All the while his eyes bounced around, he never once saw a cave or some little hide away place where the creature may have taken up residence nor did he see the creature itself. Dean was pretty fast when it came to running, but a Wendigo knew its way around the woods the same way a spider knew it's way around a web. If they weren't so damn creepy and deadly, it would be impressive. When he didn't see one in his immediate surroundings, the older brother took off at a sprint. His eyes still tried to catch the marks on the trees as he rushed by, but most of them, like everything else, had become a blur of texture and color as he passed by. He began to pick up speed as he dipped down another decline. He wasn't sure exactly what happened, mainly because it all happened so fast, but one minute his feet were beating the ground and the next he was falling down what must have been a trap. Whether it had been made by the monster or man made he wasn't clear. All he knew was that he hit the ground hard. Dean groaned as he felt his body submit to dirt floor and protest to raise from where he was laying. Slowly he managed to lift his head so that he could look around. It was dark, that was the first thing he had noticed. The only light was from the hole above where he had just came from. After more objection from his body, he finally was able to get himself to his feet. Everything ached. Dean pulled out the flashlight he had brought and flipped the switch. Nothing. He tried again and beat the object on his hand. It flickered to life before going out.

"Great," he grumbled under his breath. Dean dug in his other pocket after returning the flashlight and pulled out his cell phone, turning it on and holding it out in front of him. It wasn't a big help, but until he had something better, it would have to do. He had a lighter somewhere on his person, but until he had a better idea of where he was, he didn't want to risk burning the place down. Nor did he want to run out of lighter fluid and be left with nothing. As it is, trying to take out a Wendigo with a lighter was like trying to kill a dragon with a pocket knife. The first step Dean took nearly sent him back to the ground. He must have fallen harder on his right leg than he had thought. Dean cussed at himself and then set off half walking half limping. It appeared to be a narrow underground tunnel that snaked its way around. The older brother had only known how tall the ceiling had been because of the hole. It had been pretty high. High enough for Dean to take damage. Periodically, he would stop and listen to any sound that might hint at either a Wendigo, or preferably, Sam. The tunnel was fairly long and with him now being underground, Dean had no way of knowing how dark it was. He flipped his phone over to read the time 6:24p. "Marvelous," he muttered. Daylight was just about gone and soon Dean was really going to dread running into the tunnel dweller. By the time the tunnel dipped down slightly, Dean was bracing himself on one of sides of the earth wall. Hissing now and again when he put too much pressure on his right foot. Suddenly, the little light that he had been graced with from his cell phone went out. "Perfect." He continued the rest of the way, pressing himself up against the wall a bit more. The support for his hands disappeared and Dean almost took another face plant. The area he was in had to have been a considerably larger size. He replaced his dead phone and retrieved the lighter. It took him a couple tries, but he managed to produce a flame. He was definitely in a bigger room. As he moved down the way, his senses were ambushed with the stench of decay. He could almost taste the rotting corpse that couldn't be too far from him. Only it hadn't been just one, he was bombarded by multiple corpses that were well over their expiration date. Dean pulled his shirt over his mouth and nose as he moved the flame to bring to light a more recent dead body. Studying it a bit closer, he had recognized it as the 30 something year old man who had gone missing only a couple weeks ago. Already pieces of his flesh were missing as well as his complete left arm. Dean stifled a gag as he pulled away and limped on. He didn't have to go far to see the pile of corpses and bones that were all thrown together in a heap in the corner. This Wendigo has either been living here a long time, or it was just extremely greedy when it came to meals. Either way was highly believable and likely given the creature and its ways. However it hadn't been the heap that caught his eye and beat his heart against his chest, it had been a black and grey backpack that lay only inches from it. As fast as Dean's gimp leg allowed, he approached it and further inspected it. Unzipping the largest compartment first, Dean moved the flame over so that he could see inside. It had been a jacket that he saw first. An almost faded olive green jacket that the older Winchester had recognized immediately. He quickly began to dig faster through the bag. All he found were empty protein bar wrappers, two bone dry water bottles, and one with only a quarter left. Dean contemplated finishing it off, but decided against it and continued to search. He came across some more of Sam's clothes, a shirt and a pair of jeans and a lighter of which he pocketed. When nothing else was found, Dean moved on to go through the smaller compartment. All that was there was a useless EMF. No blow torch. Dean's heart began to sink at the thought that neither of them had it and he had some how been wrong about seeing it before they left. With that Dean knew that he only had two outcomes. Either sheer dumb luck was going to grace them or they were going to be nothing short of fucked. Come on dumb luck. He tossed the backpack over his shoulder and continued on until he was in another room. This one reeked slightly less but still bad enough to warrant a gag. There had been a difference in this room though. Dean had become aware of another presence with him. He couldn't see them, but he heard...something. He moved the small flame over in the direction of the sound and his heart lept from his chest into his throat. Laying with his head against the dirt wall in the corner, Sam sat slumped over and limp. Dean couldn't make out if his eyes had been open, but judging by how he hadn't said anything or moved when Dean had entered with his light, the answer seemed pretty clear. He limped over and dropped to his knees in front of his brother. Relief flooded him and he ran his eyes around the giant form in front of him. He was covered in dirt and what looked alarmingly like blood. Dean reached out and dabbed his fingers across his forehead and moved his finger up to his nose. Yep, it had been as he had feared. Dreading to put them both in darkness, but having no other choice, he clicked out the flame and grabbed Sam's head in his hands.

"Sam? Sammy? Come on, wake up." He lightly slapped his face until he heard a groan.

"Wh't?" The younger man mumbled groggily. The older Winchester sighed a breath of relief at his brother's voice. It fell silent.

"Sammy? Stay with me," Dean ordered.

"D'n?" He slurred.

"You ok? Can you walk?" Dean asked in voice only a few notches above a whisper. He waited for a response but didn't get one. Dean shook his brother. "Sam, hey!" Sam moaned. Some light would really be useful right now. The older Winchester started to fear that maybe his brother was going to have a harder time getting up and walking out then he was having. "Where's the blow torch?" He tried. Again no answer. "Sam! Blow torch." Still nothing. Whatever had happened must have scrambled his brain pretty good. Dean shrugged of the backpack, flicked on the lighter and began to dig again, but his time, he knew what he was looking for. His hand found the water bottle and he worked quickly to get the lid off with his free hand. "Here," he said putting the plastic to Sam's mouth. Now that there was a little light again he could see his brother's eyes were closed. "No, hey. Come on Sammy you have to wake up." Hazel finally appeared and Sam stared at Dean with a perplexed expression. Wasting no time, Dean forced his brother to open his mouth, tilted the now open water bottle, and gently poured what he hoped wasn't nasty warm water down his throat. Sam's coughs echoed through the room as he began to become more conscious of the water. He moved his head to the side and brought up a dirty hand to feebly push away Dean and the water bottle from his face.

"St'p!" He fussed. The older Winchester huffed at the objection and was instantly reminded of a three year old Sam when he would try to give him medicine for a cold. Some things never change. He gave him some time to get his bearings a bit, then moved to pour some more. Sam jerked his head away a little too quickly and Dean's ears were suddenly filled with the sound of his brother emptying his stomach. Slurred words, falling in and out of consciousness, and no doubt that head jerk was the cherry on top of the nausea cake that caused him to toss his cookies. Well, that and the potent smell of rotting corpses. Great, a concussion. Dean stayed on his knees by Sam's side as he retracted. There was no doubt in his mind that Sam could use some more water, but he don't fight him this time. When he finally stopped, the older brother went to wipe the younger ones mouth but once again, was rejected. "De'n stop!" He growled.

"Sam -" the older brother's counter was cut short by an inhuman sound coming from the way Dean had just come from. Neither brother moved. Both hazel and green eyes were staring in the direction of the sound. Dean's mind began to race. Sam hadn't even tried to stand yet, he was still half sitting half laying on the ground next to his vomit. With any luck, his brother may be able to run if he could draw the creature's attention away from him. Chances were that the Wendigo knew where it had left Sam and he was coming back for him. Or maybe it had followed Dean down the hole and let him wander right into it's home. Were they that smart? Dean didn't care how or why it was there, the point was that it was. The only thing running through his brain was to get his brother safely out of this Hell hole. Dean slowly crept away from Sam and over to where the tunnel should hopefully have led on pass the room they were in currently. A quick check to make sure it wasn't a dead end, then he began to shout.

"Hey! Over here!" He couldn't see but he was pretty sure he got its attention. "That's right Jolly Green Gollum, come and get it!" With that, he was off through the tunnel. He bit back the intense burning that exploded through his right leg, trying to ignore it. Dean didn't look back as he ran, using only his hands as a way to maneuver his way around in the dark. He had made his way into the narrow tunnel again when his boot hit something causing his right leg to finally give way. He crashed to the floor and began to crawl on his belly using his arms and legs to scurry along the ground. He dug his fingernails into the dirt and clawed frantically forward. Suddenly, his shoulder blade and back felt as though they were being torn open and he yelled out in surprise and pain. He continued to crawl as fast as he could, until he suddenly felt his body leave the ground and get hoisted into the air by his throat. He felt himself being turned around and his newly sliced open back collided hard with the earth wall, causing him to grunt and squeeze his eyes shut in pain. When he opened them again, he stared into glowing red eyes, inches from his own green ones.

 **A/n: I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I would like to take this time to inform you all that I will be visiting my best friend out of State starting next Tues through the following Mon so I will not be posting. But I promise I will work on getting another chapter up as soon as possible when I get back.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/n: Alright, the last chapter is finally complete. I would just like to thank ALL of you for reading, following, favoriting, and/or reviewing this story. I cannot thank you all enough or express my gratitude and joy with how many of you followed me on this little adventure.**

 **A special thanks to LilyBolt for everything from your support and friendship to your amazing reviews. Thank you Guest for always leaving me a llittle review on your thoughts. And of course to the very person who suggested this piece to me, miXiZ. Thank you so so very much for presenting this suggestion to me. You're amazing!**

Ch 5

Dean could feel his head becoming lighter and lighter and his vision start to fade. Flailing would only waste energy that he already didn't have, not to mention it never did any good. Before Dean was completely out of air, one last idea popped into his brain. He brought his right hand into his jacket pocket and felt around blindly. His eyes already beginning to roll in the back of his head from the loss of oxygen to his lungs. Finally, his fingers touched the little cylinder shape he had been looking for and he removed his hand from his pocket with his last hope in his not so tight grip. Dean quickly began to feel around the object until he finally found what he was looking for. He raised his hand towards the creature's arm and slid his finger down the side of the cylinder. Light appeared and grew as it touched the flesh of the Wendigo. It dropped the older Winchester with a thud and let out a high pitch deafening shriek. Dean lay in a heap on the ground gasping desperately for breath. His shoulder and back still burning with pain, causing the older brother to let out a winded yell himself.

The Wendigo managed to put the fire out, though Dean could still smell the scent of scorched flesh. If the thing wasn't pissed off before, it certainly was now.

"DEAN!"

Dean didn't have to turn and face the voice that called his name to know who it was, he had heard it all his life. What was his brother doing?! He had created that chase so that Sam could try to make a break for it, and there he was attracting attention to himself.

The older brother's heart leapt into his throat at the sight of the red eyes turning from him to investigate the sound. Despite the pain that coursed through his body, Dean began once again to crawl on the ground when he hit something solid. He retracted his hand with both pain and surprise. The shock turned into relief as Dean felt around the item in the dark. He would recognize that beat up and duct taped mess of a converted fire extinguisher he and his brother called a blowtorch anywhere. He quickly snatched it up, found the lever, pulled out his lighter again, and flicked it. Nothing. He tried again. Still nothing. He cussed to himself as the red eyes turned to face him once more. Out of lighter fluid at the worse possible time, that sounded about right with how this whole hunt had gone. Then he remembered going through Sam's backpack. He frantically began to dig around in his jacket pockets, his shoulder feeling as though it were on fire from the rapid movement. Nothing.

"Come on come on," he mumble to himself. "Aha!" Dean whipped the spare lighter he had acquired from his pocket, aimed the re-obtained blowtorch at the Wendigo, flicked, pushed the lever and the tunnel lit up. This time, it hadn't just been a little flame that caught the creature's arm, but multiple flames which engulfed it. Dean's eyes shut at the bright glow that violated his vision. The monster screeched and thrashed around causing the older Winchester to back away so that he wasn't hit by a flaming limb in the process.

Eventually, the sound stopped and what was left of the Wendigo dropped motionless to the ground. Dean stared down at it, looking up only when he heard the sound of slow footsteps approaching him. His eyes flew up and fell on his brother who was barely standing. Sam swayed a bit, then began to fall forward. Dean edged around the monstrous creature and grabbed his enormous little brother from behind. At that moment, the pain in his foot flared up again and he came down hard on his tail bone and lower back. Sam toppled over backwards with his shoulders and back of his head landing on top of his brother's chest. The extra weight knocked the wind out of the older sibling the moment the younger hit and he immediately let his arms fall from his brother to rest at his side. Sam laid there for a few seconds before rolling off and over onto his stomach next to the older Winchester. With Dean's breath more or less restored, he got to his feet and leaned exhausted and discomforted on the wall. Cold dirt touched his bare, torn, and bloody skin. Without the distraction of his or Sam's life being at risk, he could reflect on and feel the full extent of the pain he was in. Pieces of his now shredded shirt and undershirt tickled his back when he moved and no doubt it was a gory mess.

His green eyes slid over to examine his brother, who was still laying on the ground with his face to the side and his giant body raising and falling. The threat may be laying now a piece of charcoal in front of him, but the trouble wasn't over yet. Now he had to find a way out of the tunnel, back up above ground, through the forest, find the main trail, and back to the car. All the while his foot was still pretty messed up, his body ached and burned, his brother had a concussion, and he alone had to manage to get both of them out of this situation. The fun just never ended for the Winchesters.

"Son of a bitch," Dean exclaimed out loud. "Alright, come on Sammy," he said gently kneeling down to shake his brother. Sam groaned, but at least it seemed a bit easier to wake him. Dean helped him to his feet despite his attempts to slap his help away.

It took Dean what felt like hours to finally get out of the tunnels, and that was after back tracking for the backpack. Sam had fallen unconscious again and had been mostly dead weight that Dean had had to drag along, using the walls as resting stops. He was able to walk on his foot a bit better, but every few steps it would flare up again and he would try to lighten up on it. Sam may have lost quite a bit of weight these last past couple of years, but he was still far from light. The man had muscle and when he wasn't really the one moving his body, Dean could really feel it. Still, the older brother managed to lug him out and back to the forest.

Fresh cool air hit the Winchesters the moment they were free. The light was gone from the sky save the moon and a few stars. After all the nights of stargazing with Sam, Dean was able to gauge that it was around 10p, at least. It was for reasons like this that he normally wore a watch, however that accessory had been left forgotten sitting on the bathroom sink in his room at the motel. The older man would be so grateful when this day was over. Or rather once he was back to his Baby. There was no way he was going to be able to see the markings on the trees and on top of that, he didn't even know where they were. He had found the tunnel opening, but that hadn't been where he had entered initially. Dean could only hope he would somehow get lucky enough to stumble onto the main trail, hell, any trail would be good. He also had his fingers crossed that all this cold air would eventually wake Sam up enough for him to walk on his own.

Although the hunt had gone far from how Dean had hoped, he had to admit that dumb luck seemed to be the theme of the night, so maybe that hadn't stopped back in tunnel. He hadn't been blinded by sunlight after walking around in the dark tunnels for hours, that was a plus. At least that's what Dean was trying to convince himself anyways. Never mind the fact that had he been able to see, they may have already found the trail by now. A new less comforting thought broke through his thoughts. He may have taken out the known threat, but what of the unknown? Dean had no idea what wild carnivorous animal may be lurking in the woods and if they decided to attack, he and Sam were right back to being screwed. Not for the first time that night, Dean wished his brother would wake up. The older man made his way around, his ears and eyes on high alert for anything and any sound. The park had been well pass closed, so as far as Dean was concerned, his and Sam's footsteps should be the only ones he heard, anything else better be a deer or a mouse.

Another couple of hours passed before Dean eventually found a trail. He sighed with relief then rested Sam against a tree. He had gotten him this far, it was his turn to do some of the lifting.

"Sam. Hey." Dean called out in low voice. Sam's eyes rolled and he moaned. "Alright sorry, but this is where you get off. I can't carry you anymore man." Sam pushed himself off from the tree and staggered as he took a few steps away. Dean quickly returned to his side, watching his brother as though he were a toddler taking his first steps. About an hour and a half later, they could see the park entrance and just a bit beyond that Dean could make out the dimly lit parking lot and the tail end of the Impala. He would have darted off at the sight, but his injuries and barely conscious brother prevented him from doing so.

Once he had Sam in the passenger seat, he power walked to the driver's side and climbed in. The moment the door was closed, Dean threw himself down in the all too familiar seat, tossed his head back, closed his eyes, sagged his shoulders, and let out a breath. The danger was finally over and he could at last relax. However there was still the matter of Sam who had once again given in to sleep. The first bright light that hit Dean's green eyes nearly caused him to crash, but once his sight had re-acclimated, their trip was a speedy one.

Dean had stopped back at the motel, dragged Sam from the car up to his room and laid him on the unoccupied bed. There was no way he was going to let his brother stay in a room alone with a concussion, no matter how big of a fight he may put up. He was covered in dirt and now dried blood, so Dean grabbed a washcloth, got it damp, and gingerly wiped his brother's face and hands. His clothes were filthy, but those were just going to have to stay on. A little bit of dirt wouldn't hurt him.

Dean made his way back into the bathroom and switched on the light. Slowly and gently, he began to peel his shirt and undershirt off of his body. Turning so that his back was to the mirror, he craned his neck to look at the damage. The Wendigo got him pretty good, but he had had worse. The location was not an easy one for him to reach to properly dress it himself though, so instead he started up the shower and washed his body and the wound clear of dirt and anything else that may have gotten into the large open injury, holding that at least would keep it from getting infected. Once he had thrown on some sweatpants, he tossed himself onto his bed landing on his stomach and chest so that his back was exposed to the cool air and not the itchy bedding. The moment his head hit the pillow he was out.

The next morning, Sam was more responsive although he all but ignored Dean. They got into clean clothes, checked out, and were off back to the bunker. Dean was once again the one to break the silence as he caught Sam just before he could slip away down to his room.

"Sam," he said in a firm voice. Sam froze and his shoulders tensed as he turned to face his brother. He gave him a warning glare that told Dean everything he already knew. The older man stood for a few seconds just looking at the other, trying to think of what the best way to word what he wanted to say was. "Listen, what you did back there in Colorado, was dumb." He watched as his little brother crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows. At least he could move a bit better without falling down or throwing up. "It was reckless, and stupid, and childish, and honestly, it was damn pathetic." Dean nodded at him, his green eyes never moved from the icy hazel ones that glared back. "I get that you're pissed at me, alright? I get that I broke your trust, I get that you don't want anything to do with me. I get all that. Believe me." On his last words, his voice cracked slightly and saddness slid into his eyes. It had only been there briefly before he quickly pulled it back and replaced it with a serious look. "You can be as pissed at me and resent me all you want, but don't be reckless about it. You understand me?" The younger brother wasted no time countering the older.

"Are you serious?"

"Dead," Dean said. Sam scoffed and shook his head as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You know what Dean? I'll admit, it wasn't my best move, but where does the pot get off calling the kettle black?" He snapped.

"What?"

"You just stood here and said I was reckless and childish and stupid, what does that make you? Do you honestly think that using yourself as bait was smart or safe? I saw the claw marks on your back."

Dean shrugged. "It worked." Sam gave an irritated chuckle.

"I just, I don't understand why you continue to do this?"

"Do what?"

"Why you can't trust me to take care of myself."

"Because that went so well back in Colorado," Dean retorted. Sam's eyes finally tore from his brother trying to find his next move.

"I just don't get why you always feel like you have to be my hero ALL the time."

Dean had the answer ready, he always would because the answer was always the same and whether Sam wanted to accept or not, it always would be. "Because you're my brother."

 **A/n: I hope you enjoyed it. I'm currently working on one called "If I Die Before I Wake," and just started "Under the Weather." Thank you all for reading!**


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